Ring of Fire
by Bamfbugboy
Summary: Forsaken x Blood Elf romance. M for a REASON. Side Effects: May cause bleeding of the nose, heart burn, gouged eyes, uncontrollable glee, nightmares, awkward snorts, and in some cases death. Readers shouldn't use heavy machinery after reading SMUT. M/F.
1. And you Are?

Ring of Fire

Rated **M** for later on. This is just a oneshot.

_**Disclaimer:**_ I do not own Warcraft. I only own my characters and plot lines. Thanks.

The clear night sky was a sweet reminder of why I had left the Eastern Kingdoms. I honestly could not stand the Horde regions of the continent, as it was plagued by the Scourge, with plights of their armies closing in on the main capitals of the continent: the Undercity, Ironforge, and then Stormwind. I could smell the plague from miles away, sense its presence in this world. All paladins could, wherever they stood on this planet, it was there.. lurking. It was quite a shame. It was like a monster that would tap on your shoulder to remind you, to annoy you constantly. It never ceased to perturb me, that such things could happen to the land. That such destruction and agony did exist. But it never did surprise me. It all spawned from a need for power, a need to control territories in order to dominate lives, to control the resistance. The Lich King's minions had already taken care of that in Azeroth. But higher north, beyond the Great sea... was Northrend, where I was able to find some source of serenity in spite of all the turmoil.

I walked off the Zeppelin from the Undercity, glad to be away from the dull land of the Forsaken. It was much too dreary for me; Northrend had so much more to be discovered. It was a marvelous change as well from the Outlands, where demons and the Broken called home. Each place that I had traveled to had some kind of force that was opposing what was said to be right. In the Eastern Kingdoms, it was the Scourge. In Kalimdor, it was the remaining bits of the Legion, the Alliance, pirates, and other fiends that were claimed to be "evil" or "wrong-sighted". At least in Northrend, there were places of simple tranquility, where one could just sigh in relief, or raise a mug of ale with friends. There was plenty of time to fight, but there were only so few times where one could relax.

From Vengeance Landing, I had asked around for a nearby mage, who could make me a portal to Dalaran. Walking or flying was either too expensive, or would take much too long to do. Walking was a drag, anyways. So many people who were against the Horde. Rogue trolls, creatures of the Scourge, dragons, wild animals, the Alliance... it was too big of a hassle, unless you had a trained flying mount. I did have one, a demonic horse (ironic too, for a paladin), that I had captured years ago while in the Scarlet Monastery, when it was being terrorized by the Headless Horseman. The creature was owner less, and needed attention to, so I took it in, where I soon discovered it's capability to hover, and soon fly. But of course, that horse was stabled in Dalaran.

After about a half an hour of sitting in the tiny inn at the Undead encampment, I finally found a troll mage who could create a transportation circle to the grand Kirin Tor city. I had never been a fan of portals either, but I was short on time. My fellow guild mates had requested that I join them in an expedition of the mysterious temple of Ulduar in the Storm Peaks. We were all eager to see what awaited travelers and other adventurers like ourselves, and we were to meet a week after discussing the plans of attack. Ourselves and other guilds would be joining us, armed with sharpened blades, axes and shields, and the finest armor that could be found. Twenty-five of us would be venturing inside, and none of us wanted to be left behind. Of course, the troll mage still charged me after I explained to him my reasons for travel. Twenty gold for such a portal! Outrageous. But I didn't complain. I was just pleased enough to find means for getting there.

* * *

"So we'll 'ave to go through this entrance, its the only one tha's been excavated thus far." Our guild leader spoke to those that had arrived on schedule. He was a Tauren, with large, thick horns atop his head and chestnut fur that was heavily plated in his nearly unbreakable plate armor.

"Aye, looks like that's our best bet. Straight through until we reach the Expedition Landing, where its rumored Brann Bronzebeard is. It'll be mighty fine to meet him." The other guild leader said, in agreement. "But we must get enough people who know how to heal, to mend the wounded... We can'na do this without a sufficient amount of 'em."

The evening waned on, and soon the ale was flowing in the boisterous Dalaran inn. Dancing, merriment and laughter filled the air; it was the last chance to have fun, to enjoy the world of pleasure and sin before taking part in the expedition of Ulduar. No one wanted to leave, but adventure was nagging us in the back of our heads. It was a bittersweet kind of feeling, with the fear of the unknown tangled between the seems as well. None of us knew what to expect, but none of us, honestly, cared. We knew that there would be ups and downs... hardships and struggles while in the Maker's home. We expected this. The talk of plans continued despite the slur of tongue, and the playful remarks from man to woman that came about soon after. There were several couples in the guild, some married, some not. But they all had found a place in the world, there would be a gap, if there wasn't their significant other, the one they loved. Everyone knew where the speeches of honor and bravery were leading to... one flirtatious move after another, a couple of winks... we all knew.

But this story isn't about them.

Rather, it's about the most mysterious and curious night of my life. It was the one thing that seemed to torment me while we were actually in the Maker's land. It could not escape my memory, for it was so vivid and real, that I could not resist the temptation to remember...

It began when I was walking up down the winding cobblestone paths of the great city of mages, Dalaran. Magic hung heavily in the air like a toxin or mystical contaminant that entered one's system, slurring the senses like alcohol did. It was the one thing my beings craved – we had an addiction at some point, and only a handful of us had overcome it's grasp. I was one of those few. The feeling only tickled my core, but did not bring about a sudden desire for mana, or an arcane crystal. It was more like a warmth that filled my chest, were it settled calmly. My footsteps were quiet, with only a pitter patter to fill the air with noise. There was an occasional meow or hiss from a cat, or the distant sounds of other party goers of the night. I had dressed up for the meeting, wearing an Ebonweave robe with my auburn hair in delicate curls. I felt at peace, awaiting the beginnings of the expedition, but also disappointed that my last evening was over so soon.

I had not been as lucky in the "romance" section as other guild members. Oh, I was a flirt when I wanted to be, but I had never struck gold. I guess I was just picky. I wanted my man to be the usual thing any girl wanted: handsome, charming and romantic. But war and things such as the Scourge tore men like that to pieces. They were far and few, and again, I wasn't lucky. But my hand of cards had always failed on me, always holding me down, preventing me from finding such a character. It had to happen someday? Right? At least before I died. If only once. But I always saw life as a gamble, a toss of the dice, or the pulling of a card. You never know what might happen. You could get the single card that can make or break your win. A lucky pair of dice can snag you money, items, or an excuse to not have to do something. Its like they say, too. When a door closes, another door opens. The chance of me hooking up with a fellow guild member... well that was rather low... but, how could I resist the opportunity for a _different_ kind of man?

And so it happened. I was walking my way down the street, only a few minutes walk away from the tavern that I was staying at. It was in a quieter section of town, away from the night life and chat of the late evening. I enjoyed parties as much as the next gal, but I wanted a break now and then. I just wanted...

Footsteps echoed in my ear, breaking my train of thought. Quickly I turned around, to see no one there. I blinked, expecting something to be there. I shrugged. _Your mind is getting the better of you, you've had a few shots – _I reminded myself, and continued onward. Silence, but only for a few seconds, for the footsteps returned. I stopped in my tracks, feeling uncertainty get the better of me now.

"He..hello?" I spoke softly, looking over my shoulder. I saw a masked figure standing in the middle of the road about three feet away from me. Surprised and startled, I shrieked. "Oh... um," it was the covering that caught me most off guard. It was a hood that emitted a strange purple aura, a demonic one too. The robe he wore matched. It must have been a form of Ebonweave as well, for the intricate detail was greatly taken account for. The ends of the robe were dragging, as they were frayed and worn out but they were tinted with the same shade of purple that was hinted in the rest of the gown. He was gloved, and the shoulders had a peculiar kind of spikes coming from the sides. Overall, he looked like a wraith of darkness, a ghost who should have been haunting a graveyard, not Dalaran's alleys. If only he had a scythe, then I could have called him the Grim Reaper... No, the Grim Reaper was nothing in comparison to the way this man was dressed. He stood in a slight slouch, as well, with bones protruding from his elbows, sides and his spine was showing. He blended with the night, which was probably the reason why I did not see him the first time. "... was there something you needed?"

I was, afterall, an enchanter. For all I knew, he could have been another traveler in need of an enchant, or some kind of item... something... Some people wanted their Icewalker enchant at this late in the evening... Night owls they were..

But there was no reply. I stood there, staring at the hood, unable to see his face. I knew he was an undead, that was for sure because of the exposed bones. After a few minutes, I became annoyed, and I turned on my heel and began walking away. It took a moment, but he began to follow me up to the Tavern. However, when I stood on the porch to open the door leading inside, I realized that he was gone. I shrugged, and didn't think much of it. _Probably just a drunken man, who was stumbling about. _I told myself, trying to make nothing out of it. It was late, and the innkeeper was already asleep. Briefly I glanced at the grandfather clock beside the fireplace. It was 1 o'clock roughly. I yawned before heading up the stairs to my room. At the top of the stairs, I walked to the end of the hallway then turned to my right, to see the last door. I fumbled with the key, feeling a bit sleepy after the long day. I yawned again as I opened the door, not noticing that the interior had been changed. All of my supplies were waiting in the bottom left corner, all of my things that I would have to carry through the Storm Peaks, across the large fissure, and into Ulduar. So nothing seemed unusual. I stretched one last time, before opening my eyes to see the dim lighting of candles and the bed somewhat covered with rose petals. My cheeks burned as I looked to my left to see the man from before facing me, still hidden by his garments.

"Excuse me... but, um..." I was stumbling, confused about what had happened. And my heart began to pound in my chest, simply from a newfound anxiety to know what was going on. "Again, was there something you needed?"

No reply. My mind began to panick as the stranger began to creep over to where I stood, lifting a gloved hand to brush my cheek. My lips became sealed as the fingers trailed my lips, pressing lightly into them. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I stood helplessly before the stranger. Why wasn't I panicking? Why wasn't I doing something! No, instead I was standing there like a hopeless fool, allowing some stranger to touch me! How did this man sneak into my room, without going through the main door? But I banished the thoughts, as his fingers began to manipulate my mind. I closed my eyes for sheer seconds, as I became wrapped up in the moment. I found myself nipping such fingers. I heard a chuckle, the first noise I had heard from him.

The rest just... kind of happened. He began to undress me, pulling at the straps of the dress taking his time to tease me. He lifted the gown over my shoulders, only to begin undoing the bodice I wore beneath. Once undone, he tore the rest off me, tossing it to the ground. Then his hands lowered to the strip of cloth covering my lower half, were he took out a dagger from inside his robe, and cut the side straps, so that it fell slowly to the floor. I was exposed to him, almost excited that I was. If anything, I wanted to know what hid beneath that hood. Before he touched me, he walked around me, inspecting me, with his hands at his sides. He stopped when he was behind me, and I could feel his cool breath against my ear, shivering my naked skin. He cupped my chin lifting it up to his face. I still could not see what was hiding under, the cloth fell to low. But I could still feel the cool air pass from his lips, tickling my flesh. The fingers pressed against my lips again, and slowly, I began to pull away the glove with my teeth, desiring to feel his skin on my own. Once free, they grazed my cheek lightly, the tips massaging my cheekbone. The hand slowly trailed down my neck, scraping the skin in a way that sent trickles of pleasure down my spine. His chest was against my back and I noticed that it did not rise nor fall. It was stagnant, frozen in undeath. Cool air brushed down my neck, and another sigh fell from my lips.

And lower his hand went, pressing against my collarbone, making its way down to the top of my breasts. His other hand was buried in my hair, though it was gloved. But his other hand... started first off by flicking the taut tip, poking at it, curiously. Seconds later, he pushed it inward, pinching it between two fingers, pulling it outward. A moan slipped out, tightening his grip on me, crescendoing the sound. He played with the tip for a few minutes, before rolling his palm over it, cupping it in his hand and feeling its weight. He seemed to approve, because he continuously began to run his thumb over the top, soothing it after being roughly played with. Goosebumps formed on my forearms; the night air was beginning to pester me. "Never fear, my darling." He whispered in my ear, causing my body to freeze. I had heard such words before.. recently. The voice sparked a memory in my ear. I knew this undead. He was a warlock, a member of the other guild who had been present at the meeting earlier. He had said those words to me after I had asked about the possibility of failure inside the cryptic land of Ulduar. But his name had slipped through my fingers, it was on the tip of my tongue, too... But such words echoed in my mind, such an entrancing voice, a voice that could manipulate any woman he pleased. It was rich in the accent of that most Forsaken men held, heavy but mysterious, all at once. It was only a taste, a lavish trick that riled my memory, and twisted my sense of control of the situation.

It took mere seconds for him to push me against the sheets where rose petals laid. Their delicate skin was relaxing against my tired muscles, and it was awfully romantic. The candlelight, the faint moonlight of through the window, his hood, his voice... it had to have been planned. But for how long? How long had this poor soul been waiting? Had this man been staring at me from afar? Had his eyes been glued to my body for months, days, or was it just a spark of the moment kind of thing? Honestly, I didn't care. But my mind only wanted to race with questions and curiosity.

I stared up at him, wanting nothing more to see his face, to recognize him and then know. "...Who are you?" I dared to ask, my hands moving to lift the hood. But he quickly sat up, grabbing my hands. He shook his head and I could hear him chuckling again. Before I knew it, my wrists were shackled against the bedposts. I couldn't help but squirm at the idea of imprisonment, as my body rocked helplessly in their grasp, until I gave up noticing that the shaking of my body was just arousing him. How long did he have those shackles hiding on his frame? Again, he had mixed into the shadows, hiding away, and I hadn't noticed.

Instead of kissing me with his lips, he seemed to manipulate the air to do his bidding. He blew against my flesh, the cool air pinching at my breast, tingling my nerves and awaking sensations I had forgotten. He taunted me, as he would move away, and then back whenever he desired. His free hand would cup the one that was being less attended to, causing double the pleasure. Moans began to come more frequently, as he tortured my body. It was mind boggling, experiencing such pleasure, to the point where my back was arching to get that last touch, that last feeling. He sat up again when he was done. I blinked, unsure of what was next. Silence. He seemed to be pondering something, and it made me uneasy. _What is he planning..._And then another chuckle. He stood up, away from the bed to grab a long, slender piece of cloth off the vanity. He leaned over to me, lifting my head up as he tied the blindfold over my eyes. I struggled again, unhappy that I could not see now. Seconds passed again, before I felt his cool mouth press against mine. The hood was gone, I could tell that much. His velvet lips melded with mine, starting softly, timidly almost. I expected him to taste completely different. I expected the taste of rotten flesh, of death and decay... instead, he tasted normal, rich and full. His jaw was not eroded then. That was one hint at his identity. Unfortunately, there were several undead males who still had a jaw. In response, I licked his mouth, begging for entrance. He barely let me in, only to nibble on my tongue along the way. Soon after, he pulled away in a way that he was pulling my face along with him, dragging the kiss out. He was done for now. Now I had no idea what was coming next. He was extremely unpredictable; I could not make out any of his signs. But did I know anyone who was that unpredictable? Did I know someone who lived their life on whims? Yes... again. Too many choices.

I needed to hear his voice again, as the silence was deepening. "What...what are you doing – "

But a finger stopped me from continuing, but no verbal reply. I heard shuffling, he must have been getting something... but what.

And then I felt it. Vibrant and wild sensation awoke in me as he was tickling me in some form...something soft, light-weight, small...A feather! The sharp vibrations jolted me around, as I began giggling like a maniac beneath him, unable to hold back the spur of childish laughter. Another sign. He was playful, teasing in a way. I probably looked like a mad fool then, but I honestly.. had forgotten to care. But he returned to my lips, forceful now, nibbling madly at my lips, drawing tiny amounts of blood. Our tongues were soon curling together, mad for the other.

But the lips did not stay long, for they kissed and tugged at my neck's flesh for minutes, until it became sore. I was moaning again, softly and helplessly as he had his way with me. I wouldn't be surprised if there were sores the next day, left by him. Tokens of his achievement. Either way, he continued to suckle lavishly, taking his fill, not stopping when he reached my chest. He kissed my collarbone, trailing down to my breasts. His teeth pulled and nibbled at the tip, sending my body crazy. I couldn't suppress a load moan, which caused him to become slightly rougher. He spent ample time pleasing each mound, curling his tongue as much as he desired. My back arched to him again, and I found myself grinning wickedly along with him.

I couldn't help but shudder when he pulled away, my breathing sharp and hitched. He paused again, as I heard him undress now. The robe he wore, the other glove, his boots. I heard buttons unsnap as well. By now, my wrists were aching, bruised by the shackles vile and heavenly torture. He seemed to be able to read my mind, as he began unlocking them. Before setting me free, he held them over my head. "You must promise me that you won't remove your blindfold."I nodded slowly, disappointed some. However, I relished in the sound of his voice, taking his lips again, hoping I could get them to speak again. He grinned as well now, his hand roaming across my body, down to my pelvis and lower. I squealed when he pressed against my folds, bending them between my fingers. One finger dared to slide in, tight as it probed inside. He pinched the sensitive flesh, toying with me. The finger soon was joined by another, and the two pumped in and out of me, warming me up for later on. Afterwards, I took the opportunity to sit up into his lap and examine his face for myself. I felt the usual features of a face: a nose, eyes, cheekbones, a jaw... but the skin was so chilly. My fingers traced the outline of his lips, before pulling away. A naughty idea popped into my mind, followed by a grin. I reached again before me, this time reaching lower than before, searching for his manhood, if it wasn't decayed. To my surprise, I found it, heavy and slimy. My thumb rubbed the tip, pinching and scratching at it lightly. It was long, and the juices settled on my fingers. I pressed it, fondled with it. I heard a moan rise from his throat, and it made my heart pound again. I moved away soon after. Curious, I lifted my fingers to my lips and licked the residue away. Sweet and salty. My chest was rising rapidly, now. I wanted to take command of the situation from there, I wanted to change the tempo. I pushed him back onto the bed and explored his body. The feel of bones was quite peculiar. They were stiff and bristly, something that I had not expected. He was for the most part all in tack, besides the bony figure.

Sure, it wasn't Prince Charming's ideal form, but God, it was so erotic and tempting. I dared to lean my head down, to his manhood and he obliged. I started by licking him, lapping up his flavors for myself. Slow, then the pace quickened, and I began to take him whole, suckling at him hard and forcefully. He was moaning now, grunting almost from my treatment. Before I knew it, he came, and I swallowed his seed. After getting my fill, I wiped my mouth clean and let him take control again. However, he re-shackled my wrists.

"But wasn't I good?" I asked, voluptuously.

I didn't hear a reply, instead, he continued. I felt kisses on my stomach, leading down into my folds. I gasped when I felt his tongue flick at the center. My body erupted into molten fire again, burning for his touch. He complied, suckling the area vigorously, nipping and biting even. My moans came stronger and I felt my body begin the climb to climaxing as it was so very sensual and awakening. Soon enough, his tongue found its way inside, and that's when I came. He sucked me harder, lapping it all up as I exploded with pleasure. I wanted to moan his name, I wanted to clutch onto him, scream, but I was not allowed to know or do such things.

His manhood replaced his tongue soon after. He struck at me head on, without any form of preparation. I gasped loudly, panting now for my body was aching, tired... it had to be late in the evening too... He pressed into me slowly after, taking his time, allowing me to get the feel of him inside me. It was amazing, nonetheless. To be joined in such a heated manner, to become so exposed in seconds, and then to have it turn into this. He increased the tempo soon, pounding harder and faster as my hips met his pushes. Our bodies slapped together, conjoining at our cores. My head was spinning, the world was fading, it was just him... And then he stopped unexpectedly. He was panting now, and I nudged him with my chest, begging him to continue. However, he unlocked the shackles again and allowed for me to take off the blindfold.

I didn't say a word, didn't even look at him, because that wasn't what he wanted. Instead, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and my legs around his thin waist and took him harder, clenching his skin tightly. The intermission did nothing but increase his stamina, for he was able to continue for another twenty minutes of pounding into me and heated kissing. Only then, after a few more pushes into me, as well as his own climax and expelling, did he stop and slide off. He had moaned my name, and I moaned his, remembering it at the last minute. He got up from the bed, and got dressed, replacing the ghoulish garments on his body. Once the hood was back in place, I opened my eyes and frowned. He was leaving. And I hardly taken a look at him.

"Won't you stay... we don't have to leave until ten o'clock tomorrow."

He faced me again, contemplating something again. I returned his gaze, still panting from before. Seconds after, he made his decision as the hood fell from his face. We said nothing as he crawled back into the bed beside me, pulling my frame to his. I fell asleep in his arms, to his cool breath on my ear. The candles were low, barely burning then, mere flickers in the darkness. Soon they faded, and we both were able to drift off into our fantasy of what we expected from the mysterious area called Ulduar. We would recollect this night in our memory, and store it in our hearts to keep forever.

The sunlight poured into the open window, meeting my eyelids. I woke up, my eyes fluttering open. I felt around me, noticing that I was alone in the bed. Startled, I sat up, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I looked around the room, until I saw him coming from the other room. I had always stayed in the bigger rooms of Taverns, always wanting a bath and table while I relaxed in the city. He came up to the side of the bed and lifted me up into this arms walking me over to the tub in the other room. He laid me down inside the steaming water. I almost expected him to crawl in with me after the previous night. Instead, he sat down on the ground and watched me.

The bath was refreshing and rejuvenating. I sighed softly and leaned my head back. His hand brushed the water's surface, making ripples. I began to wash whatever grim off my body, and he helped clean my back. I couldn't do my hair in this kind of tub, but it was clean enough for Ulduar. His fingers trailed across my sides, drifting across my back and shoulders. I couldn't help my moan gently and lean my head back to look into his glowing yellow eyes.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked.

I nodded, smiling. I slept damn well. "So tell me, how long have you been staring at me from afar?"

"I wanted to wait for the right moment."

I laughed and caressed his cheek. "Figures, you always looked like the type that took their time."

"I'm just glad you were able to wait."

"Of course."

He fondled me again before I finished bathing, rubbing my breasts one last time before I got out. After getting dressed again, we both walked out to the meeting place from last night, hand in hand.

* * *

**A/N:** Just a oneshot thus far. Might continue this in a future fanfiction. Got this idea from a friend while I was questing to 80 on my warlock. I brought up a very, very serious question that only he, a undead warlock, could answer.

"Are undead decayed... everywhere?" to where he replied. "No."

And then, my wicked fantasies overtook me, and I _had_ to get this typed. So there you go! There is a reason for everything :D. I might continue this someday, make it an actual story, just for the hell of it. But AFTER, I finish the one I'm currently on, of course.

But I thought of another question... if an Undead male and a insert female race here do it... what do the children come out as? Half insert race here half undead hybrids? How does that work? Are they the undead version of the un-undead race?

Entirely confusing, in my opinion.

Comments? Answers? I must know.


	2. What do you ask of death?

Chapter Two

Rated **M**

_"What do you ask, of death?"_

"It must be ages since we've been here, Nico. I can't recall a time where we were able to enjoy a nice ride through the desert like this. I've missed this." I patted my demonic horse gently, brushing its wiry yet clean mane with my pale fingers. It indeed was a long time since the radiant sun had shined upon my armor, causing it to glitter and gleam in the glowing light. Sure, it was a pain to wear full-fledged plate armor in this kind of heat, but I wanted to look my best. Several guild officers and members would be meeting here in Tanaris for a party, a celebration of you will, of life and its pleasures. We survived. We found victory. And we were finally going to bask in our eternal glory as mortals. And it was about damned time, too. I was going to see him again, since both my guild and his guild were to be arriving soon to the vast desert dunes here. Yes, _him_. My _dear_ friend... hehe.

So there I was... standing at the small encampment just outside Gadgetzan amongst several others who waited with me, consisting of a vast majority being goblins and the rest compiling of various travelers of all the spectrum of races and classes that littered Azeroth. It was one of those 'ole Steemwheedle Ports and all, and we all were waiting for the ship to Booty Bay to arrive with its cargo and its passengers.

Now, I know what you are thinking. _Wait, weren't you last heading into Ulduar? Weren't you infiltrating the inner depths of the home of the Titans, the Old Gods? With Braan?_ _What happened?_

To answer such a question at times is still a mystery and a miracle in itself. Let's just say my comrades and I did infiltrate quite far into the vast region of the Makers. We succeeded in helping Braan, and in the process we discovered and rectified the horrendous fate of mankind from the Death God Yogg-Saron and the messenger Algalon the Observer. In simple terms, we altered the course of history for Azeroth, still a young planet in herself, and preserved her for years, if not centuries to come by proving that we...that _our_ lives, were worth living. That we, as mortals and immortals, were capable of living and judging ourselves. Thus, the ticking time bomb ceased, and we were allowed to live, to breathe, and to bask in the sunlight. As you can imagine, we became heroes, all twenty-five of us. The Kirin Tor awarded us with medals of honor and a hefty amount of gold for our guild vaults (which each of the guild leaders squealed about). We were lauded throughout Northrend and Azeroth, and if I'm correct, news even reached the Outlands. We were the most feared and most respected beings on the planet for several months, until things lightly simmered down, and each of the members decided to take some time to take a break and relax; in result, people split up, going to their respective homelands for rest and seclusion. Unfortunately, I lost my dear warlock friend through the midst of the clamor and cheers, and I haven't seen him since the night where we arrived back into Dalaran.

But today we would see each other again, for every man or woman who participated in the excursion into the Maker's Temple and home was invited or would be dragged here willingly or unwillingly. I only hoped that well... that there still would be something between us.

I see it in your face. You're still confused. Well, let me explain. The guilds still do not know of our relations, if you will; we weren't ready to express to everyone else of our interest in one another. I mean, I _will_ be blunt. It isn't every day that you see a blood elf and an undead... well, together in an intimate relationship. Because of our silence, everything slowed down and fell to a simmer as other priorities took over. I tended to the wounded through my own magic and he torridly helped destroy our enemies with hellfire and fel magic. There was not much time to be close to one another, to sneak a quickie here or there, or even a kiss or a simple hug. As I said, our mission and purpose of accompanying and protecting Braan Bronzebeard took priority over our relationship and our churning emotions inside our bellies. I suppose it died down between us. We always were professional around the others. As much as I wanted to slither my way over to his bedroll to lay with him, I had to instead lay alone with the other women and try to sleep. Of course, sleep was hard to come by because of two reasons. One, we were usually attacked by Iron Dwarves in the evening during a vast majority of our time inside the halls of origination; two, I couldn't sleep while thinking about our heated and passionate time together inside my room in Dalaran... the night before we took off to the Storm Peaks. And he always was wearing that _hood_ of his. My memory of his face began to wear off as the months went by.

But everything would be different today. Actually, life in general was different now. There was no battle to worry about, no chaos looming around each corner, nothing but celebration in the air. Nothing to entirely anticipate as far as combat went − excluding the Argent Tournament which was to be held in only a month and a half. I could feel it in my bones... the simple anticipation of a relaxing and rejuvenating day. I could tell. I would let myself go, I would give up my tiresome weary and loneliness. Why? Because today would be different. My life would change today. Why? Well _why not?_

_Ding! Ding!_

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the ship on the horizon, making its way here on the high seas. A rowdy goblin was ringing a bell, signaling that the ship would be arriving in ten minutes. The sturdy and reliable mast and sails were proud and true, the wind pushing it forward, and with it, pushing my friend closer to me. Indeed. The wind was picking up some, for my hair began to sway in the gentle breeze on its own accord. _Lovely. I have been waiting for this moment for so long. Finally, I will see you again, without that dreaded mask of yours. Without blood staining your robes. Without ache and anguish hanging on our bones and flesh, without the screams of battle looming and echoing in our ears. Yes. It is time. Time for change. Time for life, again. The petty world can wait. I need answers. Reasons. Anything that will help make sense out of all of this. I need to know if what happened that evening was a onetime affair, or not._

The boat was striding and gliding over the water, as if there weren't any waves pushing against the massive planks of wood, as if there wasn't any resistance against its advances. The countdown was finally here. _Oh god_. It was really happening. _What if he's not coming? What if he doesn't want to see me again?_ I shuddered as doubt began to take hold. _I can't do this. I don't want that moment to just have been a onetime affair, that will never be revisited. I don't want that evening to be tainted in my memory._ I bit my lip and panicked, and the boat was now seconds away from the dock and I fumbled with my horse's reigns. My heart was sinking, drowning in my own blood inside my chest. The bell rang again, signaling that the ship had arrived and was about to begin letting off passengers. My thoughts contorted and became malignant, the spark of doubt becoming a wildfire of anxiety and apprehension that was ruining the moment. I was about to turn and walk away, before I heard my name being called. Instinctively I glanced over my shoulder, seeing my guild master walking down the plank, waving at me. I hesitated before waving back, unsure still if whether or not I should just have taken off into the desert, away from the town. No... I couldn't run. I had to at least be cordial to my allies, my comrades. He was a huge Tauren whose massive horns were extenuated and elongated by his thick plate chest piece and shoulders. He carried his helm in his hands, as well as his own backpack. Several other recognizable members from both of the guilds were following behind him, a mixture of Trolls, Blood Elves, Tauren, Orcs, and finally, Forsaken. I hopped off my horse and patted its mane gently and watched my guild leader approach me.

"How've you been Tess? Still enchanting?"

I shrugged, my ears only half working as I scanned the sea of passengers for his ghoulish garments. I inwardly sighed, no... he still wasn't anywhere to be seen. I must have been dazing off for a few moments, because I did not notice the large palm waving in front of me, checking to see if I still was conscious. "Hey, uh, Tess, you there?"

I fell back into reality as I noticed the hand and the voice calling my name and I nodded, smiling half-heartedly. "Yes, I'm here. I've been practicing my enchanting actually, now that you mention it-" I was interrupted by one of my close friends, a Troll Shamanness who came and pounced on me with a huge hug.

" 'Ey Tess! It's bin a long time, 'asn't it? Since Ulduar, em I rite?" She began messing up my neatly combed hair with her turquoise palm. "Ya still look swell and sexeh, don'tcha!" She smiled brightly, her sharp fangs glistening with a faint bit of saliva in the sunlight. I blinked and couldn't hold back a hearty chuckle. Her name was Kitaka. She was a healer and a bender of the elements, a native of the Echo Isles, and a self-proclaimed 'Master Belly Dancer.' "Oh Tess, I missed ya. Missed messin' wit cha. But we be a good team for pranks 'n all. We should get to that again. Bin awhile since we screwed wit da guildies togedda. We should plan sumthin, ya know! For da parteh. Mahbeh use some good 'ole voodoo, ey? If ya still got that devil in ya," Kitaka giggled and grinned, hugging me tighter. "Ya mon. We definitely gotta do sumthin to rile big 'ole Targus here."

I nodded, laughing appreciatively. I hugged her back and Targus snorted, patting my shoulder gently. "Don't get too comfy and conniving you two. We aren't going to have the same fiasco we did at the last guild party, where you two decided it would be hilarious to draw on everyone's faces when they were asleep and Kita accidently set Karmen's clothes on fire."

Kitaka smirked devilishly. "Ey, relax mon. We won't do anythin' too crazeh. Don't cha worry 'bout dat. As far as gettin' comfy tho, that's up to Tessie here."

I rolled my eyes and winked playfully at the troll who giggled. "Yeh, she's mah minion, Targus. Can't help if we think on da same level."

"Just don't set anything or anyone on fire, including yourselves," Targus explained before slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking off towards the designated camp site. Kita waited for the Tauren to leave before asking a more personal question to me. "Tessie, 'ave you seen him yet?"

I blinked, raising a brow to the shaman until it hit me. I sighed and shook my head. "No, I haven't yet."

"Do yeh know if he's coming?"

"I'm not sure, I hope so. I'd like to talk to him again."

"What's he look like again? Besides boney 'n dead."

I was about to explain to her what he looked like before my eyes actually fell upon the creature who was trapped in my thoughts. He still wore the same armor, the Grim Reaper-esque robe, hood, and shoulders that also reminded me of a crow. He walked with a slouch and carried his own backpack and belongings in his hands, with his caster sword, "the Turning Tide" as it was called, at his side. A purple smoke dissipated from his shoulders and his sword, that faded as he moved along on the dock. I frowned. He still was stubborn enough to wear that damned hood of his. He was such a mystery and a heartache. I should have known better especially since he simply walked on by me without a glance or a hello. My heart finally drowned and it ached in my chest. I lifted a hand to rest against the hot metal of my chest piece and sighed, shaking my head. _You should have known better, Tess._

Kitaka's own smile faded into a disheartened frown. She bent down to my ear and asked, "Dat's him, ain't it?"

I nodded silently and beckoned for her to follow. The festivities would soon be underway as evening crept over the endless sands of Tanaris and the ceremonial bonfires were lit.

**ξ**

"And sho I shaid... 'Y'know, Tauren are born hunters. You ever shee a Tauren catch a shalmon out of a stream? It really is quite exciting. You ever shee a Tauren shtalk a python? 'Course you haven't. That's because Tauren are so adept at blending in with their shurroundings.'" Targus bellowed with laughter after explaining the joke and took a full gulp of his ale. Everyone laughed at the joke in the frivolous air, as ale flowed and spilled down people's necks and throats. We were all seated around a large and raging bonfire, telling stories, laughing, flirting... it reminded me of our last guild party. Before we headed off into Ulduar. But I suppose things really had changed since those battles and that evening. People change. I suppose I should have known.

I sat next to Kitaka, who helped with the cooking and was now telling jokes with the others. A troll from the other guild was flirting with her and really making an advance towards her. "Heh heh... Ya look pretty. Pretty tasty, mon. How 'bout you and meh go and try out some jungle lovin' by the sea, ey? Ya look like yeh got ya strength for it."

She giggled and winked. "I'll warn ya, I do bite."

"Goodie, let's go."

And so the two went off away from the campsite, off to make crazy troll love on the beach. I sighed, pulling my knees to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs and leaned against my knees, feeling ridiculously jealous. I had changed since this morning and was now wearing the same dress from that evening, feeling ridiculous for even thinking that something special was going to happen to me as well. I mean, would it be kind of weird to say that I wanted to run off and have crazy undead lovin' with him? Probably. Most girls didn't have wet dreams about a guy who's bones literally creaked and cracked like wooden floor panels. I guess I was just weird.

As the evening waned on, and the drinks began to simmer in people's stomachs, the people around the campfire began thinning out. Couples were running off to spend the rest of the evening together, friends were off to go chat about professions, or battles, the latest gossip, whatever it may be. Targus asked if I wanted to go play Darkmoon Cards with some of the other members, but I declined, preferring to just grab my bedroll and lay down against the blanket of sand and listen to the crackle of the fire and the rhythmic movement of the ocean's waves. The twinkling stars littered the night sky and the moon served as the only light besides the bonfire and the dock light in the distance. Everything was calm, unmoving and stagnant. The salty air tickled my nose, and I was almost able to fall asleep in the soothing atmosphere after a day of heartache.

But something began to nag me, something began to bother me as I rested against my own blanket and pillow. I opened my eyes and saw the Reaper in his own flesh standing above me. He was staring down at me, hidden by his hood. I blinked and frowned. I turned on my side and frowned, "What do _you _want?"

I watched from the corner of my eye as he began to unlatch his helm and eventually take it off, allowing me to see his face completely. His flesh was paler than snow, but in the faint campfire light it appeared to be partially orange, with shadows playing on his face, tempting me to turn my head and watch them elegantly haunt his visage. His yellow eyes glowed brightly, holding a mesmerizing gaze with my own. His hair was messy and flat, hanging around his face to his shoulders. He stood with a slouch and he did not move for several moments, as if he were contemplating and pondering the question in his thoughts silently.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to talk."

"You had plenty of opportunities throughout the evening and day."

"You know I couldn't have openly talked to you privately. People would start wondering."

"Let them wonder." I scoffed, looking away from his eyes. "I could care less."

"That's not true. You do care, Tess," he whispered, uttering my name softly. I glanced towards him but did not give him any sign of weakness and giving in.

"Look, I'm trying to get some damn rest, if you don't mind."

"Then I'll just sit here." He gestured to the spot beside me and he sat down on the sand directly, folding his hands in his lap. He stayed silent for several moments, listening to my breathing, exhaling and inhaling the smoky smell of the campfire. He began to fumble with a loose seam on his robe and then finally broke the silence nervously. "It's not that I didn't want to talk to you, Tess, during our time in Ulduar. It's not like I wanted to be away from you. I was just...worried, that's all."

I didn't turn to look at him but I knew that he was frowning in the dim light. "Well, you sure as hell gave mixed signals. I gave up on whatever it was I thought we had that evening in Dalaran."

"Why?"

I blinked and instantly turned over, looking at him, directly glaring at his eye sockets. "What do you mean why? You were the one that started this! And apparently you ended it as well!"

"I haven't ended anything. You're just making ridiculous assumptions. And, it's starting to make us both look like asses."

"You still haven't given me reason to not make such assumptions." I frowned, feeling hurt. "It's been months since we last arrived in Dalaran, I searched everywhere in that city for you, but I couldn't find you. So I left. I came to Kalimdor. But you never came looking for me. What was I supposed to think? I figured that you saw it as a one night stand, a simple flush of emotions caused by ale and desperation."

"No... Tess, you have it all wrong." He spoke softly, lifting a clawed and boney hand to my cheek, holding it carefully in his palm. His chilly fingers sent tiny jolts of sensation down my spine, tickling my spirit soothingly. "I...After we arrived back in Dalaran, Jaev wanted me to teach some of the new recruits who reached their proper ranking in our guild while we were away. I was sent to Orgrimmar. I didn't mean to leave without saying goodbye, but things... things just happened so fast, Tess. We went our separate ways, until now."

"But you could have at least written a simple letter!" I moved his hand away from my face and sat up, folding my arms around my chest, unable to look at him.

"I know, I should have Tess." He came closer to me, pulling my frame into is lap. He situated me comfortably his arms around me. His chest neither rose nor fell, stagnant and stoic, forever in undeath. I sighed as his fingers slowly clawed and crept up my sides, feeling my curves and examining my frame. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you," he whispered softly into my ear, "I was afraid of whether or not you truly would want to be with well... a dead man."

"It doesn't mean you're any less of a man, Theodore." I whispered back, angling my head so that I could look into his sorrowful eyes.

"You'd never be able to..." he sighed, as if he felt de-masculinated by the following words, "to have a child with me."

I blinked up at him, and began to chuckle. "That's ridiculous, Thee. Of course I can have child. It's called an orphanage."

"It's not the same."

"A child is a child, either way. A child needs love and attention, whether they're from a my womb or from parents who have fallen in battle."

"I know, Tess. I understand that... it's just..."

"I'm not looking for a man who can give me offspring, you silly moron!" I slapped him in an effort to help him understand, to come to his senses. "I'm looking for a man who's man enough to express his feelings to me! To make me feel like a woman, which is _exactly_ what you do to me."

He stared down at me and found sincerity in my eyes. "But there's plenty of men, alive men, who would die for you? Why am I so special?"

I sighed, "You're really that blind? Because you went to all the trouble to give me a romantic performance, showing that you were in love with me deeply. I never experienced anything so erotic and charming as you, Thee." I leaned closer to him, feeling a burst of sensuality erupt from my core like a volcano, spreading to my limbs and to my brain, corrupting the thoughts of innocence and decency. "I'll be blunt, I _wanted_ to crawl over to your bedroll and sneak away inside Ulduar, but you're so damned professional around the others. I probably could have taken off my already revealing armor and just strut around, and you'd stoically glance for a moment, then look away."

If any heat could surge in his body, he would have been blushing. He looked away and couldn't hold back a laugh. "Oh please, you don't know how I'd react if you did something as extreme as that. You're too professional yourself. You would never do that in the first place."

"Hmph, still, it proves my point."

"Well, I can't always be a mewling kitten like you."

"You could have at least snuck away with me some of the time... It was so dreadfully painful being haunted by that evening of ours in Dalaran."

He began to caress my hair softly, his fingers lightly curling in the strands, until he completely possessed me and held me still, my face arched upwards towards his. His frosty blue lips looked so delicious and tempting, I wanted to simply crash and mold with him infinitely. But he held me still, trapped in his embrace. Theodore's eyes stared with anguish and regret, penetrating into mine, contemplating his next move. But before I knew it, we collided into one our lips hotly melding and meshing together in sweet harmony and I mumbled incoherent words of happiness under my breath. I didn't realize that he was now carrying me away from the fire, with my blanket wrapped tightly around me, dragging me away like some lustful lunatic towards a secluded cove north of the Steemwheedle Port, away from the sleeping members of both of the guilds, away from the snores and the creaking sand crickets. Our kiss became more intense and wild as he lowered me the ground, against the sand. The tide and the waves crashed and met our bodies as we situated the blanket beneath us both. The water was a welcoming cool sensation that matched his advancing hands on my body.

His kisses trailed down my neck and he lavishly sucked on my jugular, extracting a submissive moan from my chest. His fingers began to unlace my gown, pulling at the seams delicately and slowly, revealing my body to him in the faint moonlight. I wore only a simple bodice and some tight shorts underneath the dress.

"You better not tear these clothes like you did last time. I had to buy a whole new set of clothes after."

"Oh please, elves and their ridiculous fashion. If I had a say in things, you would just be naked the entire time when you were around me."

"You have to work for it, sweetie, sorry to say."

"Meh," he leaned over and silenced me with his lips, his probing tongue tangling with mine as his fingers began to undo my bodice. He worked the lace slowly, scraping my covered chest with his eager fingers playfully. I sighed softly against his lips, waiting impatiently for him to remove the confining piece of clothing. Once the piece of clothing was unlatched and scrapped aside, his chilly hands were on me, fondling my supple bosom. The tips became taut and stiff, and my moans were swift and low. His eyes were glued to my own, gauging my reaction as my chest became sore from his viciously endearing hands and sharp talons for fingernails. His frigid touch was colder than Hodir's mighty frost breath, yet it set my body on fire, as if Ignis had lit the furnace inside my belly. We were literally hot and cold, and I wanted to examine him for myself, to learn more about undeath as this continued onwards.

"Thee... I... this totally sounds out of place but I want to ask you something...Nngh..." I moaned as his lips, that were drenched in saliva, closed around one of my breasts, savoring the musky feminine flavor that drove him crazy. "Theeee... pleeease... stop for a second."

He obeyed surprisingly and looked up at me with an impatient glare. "What Tess?" He growled direly, his hands continuing to fondle and squeeze me. I yelped for a moment and noticed that he sounded intensely primal, like a predator who had to pause for a moment while enjoying his prey.

"I have a question about your anatomy."

Theodore blinked at me as if he had heard the most stupidest and retarded question ever. "You're kidding right."

"Nooo, I'm serious..." I moaned again as one of his fingers trailed over my aching peak. "Stop doing that, it's distracting."

"What on earth could be on your mind right now, Tess? That would make you want me to stop for a moment." A rush of water came and crashed against us both and a squealed as the water ran over us both, pulling the moist sand and ourselves gently. "If you're about to get all scientific on me, in the middle of this, I swear by the Dark Lady I'm going to really just ignore you and get on with it."

"I'm serious! I have questions."

He rolled his eyes at me then sighed. "Fine, go for it. You can ask three questions." He leaned over me and nibbled my ear gently before whispering, "I'll be expecting payment for this, Tess."

"Of course, Thee." I cleared my throat and sat up beside him. I told him to take off that ridiculously ghoulish robe off his body immediately, before I tore it off of him. He stuck his tongue out to me and c told me that just because I was a paladin, didn't mean I had to be all "self-righteous" when it came to what I believed to be "ghoulish clothes" and what he called comfortable and well-tailored. Once he wore nothing but his breeches and bracers, I smiled, thanking him. I pushed him against the sand and then moved ontop of him, so that I straddled his body. I grinned wickedly and he raised a brow, confused by my actions. "Comfy?"

He nodded and gestured for me to begin as the water rushed in again, drenching our bodies. I slid over him, leaning closer to his face and began my inquisition. "Alright. I know you can't breathe, and that you're as cold as death himself, but... I was wondering, do you still feel sensations, Thee? Can you still become aroused? Can you still feel hot and cold? What about your senses? I know you can hear and that you can see, but do you really feel pain, or taste, or smell? What of all that?"

He stared at me dumbfounded and looked like he was about to start laughing. "Tess, I can answer a good majority of those questions if you could just do one thing for me."

In my naivety I nodded eagerly, "Yea, what?"

He took my hand and placed it where our two cores met, confined by clothing. I felt not only my own arousal and warmth, but I also felt his stiff and throbbing member dying to be set free. I blushed every shade of crimson and red and felt ridiculously stupid. I couldn't help but chuckle uneasily and I looked away.

"Tess, just because I'm a dead man doesn't mean I can't feel your breath against my lips, or smell the sweet scent of flowers in your hair, or feel attraction, which I'll admit, I'm feeling alot of right now, to you. I may be dead, but I can still feel the warmth of your heart radiate and I can hear it pound in your chest."

I smiled and giggled, "Okay, I guess I asked more than three questions out of my own eagerness."

"Yea, I suppose you did."

"Too bad for you I'm the one on top."

"Not for long, sweetie. You underestimate the strength and might of the Forsaken." He cackled playfully and almost maliciously. "You're such a frail little bird, a sparrow who _will_ sing for me." His fingers trailed down my sides and I grinned, letting him think he had some form of power over me. Well, that was until said boney fingers decided to creep into my shorts and snake their way against my warmth. I yelped and edged away, but he kept me there, bound by his other hand that rested firmly on my waist. His fingers tormented me, scraping and tickling the sensitive nub of nerves that sent me moaning and begging for more of him. He was sitting up now, with my legs straddled across his lap. In my dazed and euphoric state, I didn't even notice him pulling my shorts off of my legs, tossing them to the formed pile of clothes. It wasn't before long when his fingers were inside of me, one first then another in due time, pressing against my tightening muscles that clenched and contorted under his probing touch. I was seeing stars when a third slipped in, and all three were poking and grinding against the bundle of nerves that sent me overboard, flinging me into the ocean of sensuality and pleasure, away from this world and into a world where I only knew two words: "Theodore" and "More."

The water rushed around us again and before I knew it I was being pressed against the wet sand, with his lips against mine and my heart pounding at the speed of a marathon. He kissed me gently this time, easing my aching and trembling body with his feather-light touch. What I loved so dearly about Theodore was his ability to be both intensely passionate, but as gentle as a dove. His touch spoke a thousand words of endearment, and his eyes shined with torrid delight. He must have died a beautiful death, this man. For he was a hopeless romantic like myself, who indulged in fantasy and the beauty of the night, where man and woman, or anyone in general, crashed and craved the other so instinctively. But for a man who believed that he had been de-masculinated by death, he was far more of a man than many I had seen. If anything, death sharpened and refined his qualities, and taught him to cherish this second chance at life. He did not seek revenge against the living like many others of his brethren did. He was thankful for his chance at second life, whether it was cursed or not. He had his sanity, he had his emotions. Sure, he couldn't breathe or get as intoxicated as a living man, but he still could make others happy, or sad, or angry, or proud. He still was devoted to the cause of justice and answers, still searching for whatever destiny Lady Fate set aside for him.

And it was beautiful.

Theodore was captivating and mystery, yet so much of his spirit and personality were revealed during our time spent making love over and over on that beach, as well as during the afterglow, where we laid tangled in the others arms, simply talking in mumbled whispers about our futures and what laid ahead on our paths. If anything at all, if anything in this world was rotting right now, it was the others who chose to indulge in their futile quests for power, money, and fame. For those who chose to bathe in bloodshed and revenge, for those who wasted their time on petty manners. Theodore, although a man trapped in undeath, was not rotting away like many members of society were. No. Death simply persevered a man who deserved to stay alive and teach the world that with tragedy comes sacrifices, but also beauty and lessons that are locked away in the depths of a man's heart.

We stayed there, entangled and twisted in the labyrinth of the others eyes and hearts until I drifted off to sleep. Theodore simply brushed my hair with his fingers, as if he were kissing each of the strands of my hair, the hair of the goddess he worshipped. I must have slept for hours. I was awoken by the sound of seagulls and the bright blinding light of the sun in our little secluded cove. Theodore was still beside me, staring up at the big blue sky. I watched him for a few moments until he noticed me and I blushed brightly.

"Good morning, Tess."

"Hey, Thee."

I sat up and was about to get dressed when he pulled me into a deep and meaningful kiss. I sighed and latched my arms around his neck, through his smoky blonde hair. His fingers trailed down my back, rubbing my spine with his boney fingers. He moved away several moments after, allowing me to catch my breath. "Tess, I...," he paused for a moment, staring at me intently, "I love you."

I purred against his neck and placed a kiss on the bone that protruded there. "I love you too," I mumbled against his chest. "You do realize we're going to have to tell them, you know."

"Heh. Yeah...That's true and all, but there's a few other things that we're going to have to tell them."

I moved away for a moment and raised a brow, confused. "What else?"

He grinned brightly and laughed, and it was a pleasant chime in my ears. "Well, we're going to have to tell them that you're mine, Tess. And that I intend to make it permanent soon enough, if you'll have me."

I nodded brightly, kissing his cheek. "Of course, Thee. We have eternity."

He helped me get dressed, latching up the laces of my bodice as well as handing me my dress. He chose to go bare-chested as we walked back, however, saying that he wanted to prove that undead men could have muscles just like alive men. I laughed hysterically at this and nodded. "Gee, Targus might even feel insecure with _those_ muscles, Thee."

"Hell yea, Tess. I'll silence anyone who says warlocks are wimps just because they wear robes."

"I'll be cheering you on when you silly men decide to have a duel to the death over it."

"Tch, you and the other women will probably start having nose bleeds after awhile."

"Yep. Kita and I will be swooning over it."

He stopped and took my hand, holding it tightly. He smiled brightly, and in the shining light of the morning sun, he appeared to be glowing in general, as if he were a beacon of light to guide me on through darkness. "Thank you, Tess."

I returned the smile and kissed him again, and I was only inches away from completely making-out with him on the beach until I heard a certain shaman whistling and yelling our names in the distance. I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder, seeing Kita and the others cheering us on.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I felt like this story deserved an epilogue. I might write more parts to this as time goes on, but for now, this is where I'm leaving this. Thank you all for the answers to the previous chapter's question regarding undead males! Haha. Some of the reviews were actually really funny to read. Feel free to get scientific!


End file.
